shaking my fist at the sky

Fall came too suddenly this year. The signs outside point to this: with the branches and leaves having fallen from the trees into sad piles or covering the yard, for example, alive and green, left for dead. I feel it in my body too. As if off and running fully charged from summer vacation I tripped just a few yards out; my head and shoulders and chest thrown forward, sending me face first with all my momentum into the cold and damp ground; into a patch of slushy snow, no less (which is out there, to be sure). My mood feels just about the same. I'm in a funk. These last few days, while all else is as it should be, every day living, and all, something is off. I cannot concentrate. I cannot let go. Tonight at yoga I was so not into it. I felt this too when I walked out the door and up the stairs, into the dark, cold October night: I wanted to shake my fist at the sky! I thought about not too long ago when I could walk out and up from my practice and see the sun just starting to set; feel the air, still warm from the late-summer day; and breathe it all in. That's gone. And too suddenly. At least I have my two lovelies to come home to.